


A Special Kind of Dread

by NoisyNoiverns



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Family Issues, Fear of Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 20:56:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8028652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoisyNoiverns/pseuds/NoisyNoiverns
Summary: Councilor Sparatus disappears after sending Shepard off to Menae, and Valern is dispatched to find out why.
For #councilappreciationweek on Tumblr.





	A Special Kind of Dread

**Author's Note:**

> my talents include providing depth for plot device npcs and nothing else that's it

Valern avoided eye contact with the various ambassadors greeting him as he strode through the turian embassy. Twenty-one years, three months, one week, and two days since he’d started working on the Citadel, and looking too closely at the predator species still set his heart in a panic. He didn’t need to talk to any of them right now, so he stared resolutely ahead and hoped they didn’t need to talk to him.

His goal was at the end of the embassy. The holo-lock on the councilor’s door glowed a steady orange, but turned green at his approach and let him in. “Selectively privacy setting,” the techs had called it when they’d introduced it after the _Destiny Ascension_ disaster. Only let in who the occupant wanted to let in. To Valern’s knowledge, only himself and the lady Sparatus were allowed in automatically.

Sparatus didn’t look up when he came in, huddled as he was on his desk. His terminal had been pushed to the side so his arms could stretch and cross in front of him, and his head lay on his forearms, crest almost touching the spinal plates on the back of his neck. Valern rounded the desk and followed his listless gaze to a picture frame solemnly displaying an image of his family.

He cleared his throat, and one of Sparatus’s mandibles twitched feebly. “I thought I’d find you here,” he said, folding his arms. “Tevos worried when you didn’t show to discuss the war budget.”

Sparatus heaved a long, slow sigh, and Valern shook his head slightly. “You can call your children soon, yes? We’re off-duty as of ten minutes ago. I’m surprised you haven’t left already, really.”

The auditory nerves matrixed through Valern’s skin tried to evacuate as Sparatus’s subvocals rumbled, deep and mournful. “Areus and Verres are on Menae.”

He never really knew why aliens expected him to understand everything. Probably because his brain was already helpfully supplying the information. _Menae: the larger of two moons orbiting Palaven. Data sparse. No agents successfully placed since end of Krogan Rebellions_. Then an image of the most recent set of memos he’d gotten from his info network, and he remembered. Menae was under attack.

What exactly was he supposed to say to that? “Ah.” _Very helpful, idiot_. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Sparatus let out a noise that was almost a keen. “Comms are down. They always call when they’re on deployment, they know their mother worries…”

Turian professionalism meant that no matter how much more he worried, Sparatus would never say, and they both knew it. “They’ll be _fine_ ,” Valern repeated, a little more firmly. “They’re _your_ sons, after all. Never met a more stubborn bird.”

One of Sparatus’s mandibles twitched in what Valern had learned was a fleeting smile, and he rolled his shoulders before hauling himself into a more upright position. “I know, I just… I should have told Shepard to look out for them, tell them to call when they can.”

“If they’re as good and responsible as you and Aediteia keep bragging, they’ll probably be trying to call every couple of minutes until it connects,” Valern said dryly, moving to clasp Sparatus’s shoulder. “They’re not tadpoles- er, nestlings.” That was the turian term for it, right?

Sparatus turned to give Valern a long look, then shook his head. “This isn’t the usual deployment to go defend a colony for a couple of months. This is _war_. The risk they might not come back just _skyrocketed_.”

His voice cracked. Valern couldn’t remember his voice _ever_ cracking- wait, no, yes he could. On the _Ascension_ , when Sparatus had been afraid he was going to die without ever saying goodbye to his mate.

Wasn’t that just delightful.

Valern weighed his options, then nodded to himself and leaned forward enough that his head was closer to Sparatus’s. “I understand. It’ll be easier to wait at home, away from all the death reports. Come on, it’s twenty minutes since work ended and ten since you were expected home. Aediteia will be wondering where you are.”


End file.
